* * *
Back in town, we both have errands to run, so Dalton drops off Storm with Petra. When I go to pick her up, I visit for a while, enjoying a coffee while Storm worries a knotted rope toy Petra must have made for her. Eventually Storm pushes it under the couch, unleashing a torrent of puppy grief. I yank out the slobber-covered thing and take a closer look. It’s actually fabric, intricately braided and dyed.
“You didn’t make this for her, did you?” I say, as I hold it up.
“No. It was a gift from a suitor. Storm decided it looked more like a chew toy.”
“Damn, I’m sorry.”
“Yep, you owe me one butt-ugly, useless hunk of braided fabric, which I may have accidentally left on the sofa for a teething puppy.”
I dangle it for Storm, and she jumps heroically. “What was it supposed to be?”
“I have no idea. Apparently, since I’m an artist, he wanted to do something artistic for me. I held on to it for three months, which I believe is the appropriate length of time to keep something before you can regift it.”
“I’ve never seen it.”
“Just because I kept it doesn’t mean I feel obligated to display it. That might suggest the suitor still has a shot. Which would lead to more knotted hunks of fabric. And possibly pity sex. I don’t do pity sex.”
“You can’t in Rockton. It’d be a full-time endeavor.”
I toss the toy for Storm, and she tumbles after it as I sit back on the sofa.
Petra sips her coffee. “So segueing to guys who have never needed pity sex, how do you like shacking up with the sheriff?”
“I’m not sure we’ve been home long enough to know.”
“Best way to do it. Means you don’t have to worry about his bad habits driving you crazy. With my ex, I think marriage and cohabitation took us from I can’t bear another minute without you to I can’t bear another minute with you in about thirty days.”
“You were married?”
“It really didn’t last much more than those thirty days. Well, thirty days of honeymoon bliss followed by two years of postponing the inevitable.”
“That sucks.”
She runs her finger along the top of her mug. “Actually, it was just the marriage part that sucked. I loved him. Still do. We just worked better as friends. It happens sometimes. You meet a guy, and there’s that click, and you mistake it for another kind. It should have been friendship, but you both thought you should try for more and…” She trails off and then inhales sharply. “You and Eric are a whole other situation. I’m glad to see you make the leap to single-residence dwelling. I thought it’d take him longer to work up the nerve to suggest it.”
“Actually, it was for the dog. So she can settle in one place.”
Petra grins. “So he didn’t work up the nerve. He found an excuse.”
“Eric doesn’t need to work up the nerve for anything. I’m not exactly a high-maintenance girlfriend.”
“Maybe, but he’s still careful not to slam his foot on the gas and send you running for cover. I won’t say he got the puppy as an excuse to move in together, but I’m sure it was an added bonus. And the dog itself says where he’s headed.”
When I look at her, she gestures at Storm and says, “Starter baby?”
“What?”
“Right, you never did the long-term dating thing. Pet ownership is the first stop on the kid express. There’s even a scale of pets. If it’s a fish, it’s a very tentative commitment. Dogs, though, are all the way. Toilet training, teething, playtime, lessons, day care. Eric is on the baby train, full speed ahead.”
I stare at her.
“Oh, I’m kidding,” she says. “Well, exaggerating anyway. It just means he’s serious. Really, really serious. Which is a good thing, right? Unless I really misinterpreted, you’re not looking for a winter fling.”
“No, of course not. I just…” I look at her. “Is he telling me he expects kids?”
“No, no. Damn, I’m sorry. I was being flip, and I’ve totally freaked you out. I have no idea whether Eric wants children or not. A puppy just means is that he’s committed enough that you guys need to have that conversation—soon. The two biggest things that break up a relationship? Differing financial styles and differing views on kids. Up here, finances are not an issue. Differing views on kids isn’t a deal breaker, but it’s something you need to discuss before things get more serious or you end up with him saying Let’s start a family, and you saying, What family? Been there, done that. It wasn’t good.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Like I said, there was more wrong to my marriage than differing views on children. We just made the mistake of not sorting that out, and assuming we knew what the other wanted, and then staying together because of the kid.”
“You—you have—”
“Had,” she says. “Past tense. Yeah, really didn’t mean to go there. Sorry. Anyway, back to you and Eric. Just know that the puppy means he’s serious, and if he’s serious, then it’s time to open those lines of communication on everything, including children.”
* * *
It’s night. Storm is upstairs, sound asleep after an hour-long snow-play session to guarantee puppy exhaustion and an hour of peace and quiet. Well, relative peace and quiet. Fortunately, we’ve done a good enough job with the playtime plan that any noise coming from downstairs hasn’t woken her. Now we’re stretched out on the bearskin rug as the fire casts dancing shadows around the dark room.